This past Saturday my husband and my daughter were working. It was just the monkey and me. He was in his bedroom playing with his toys and watching television. I was in my bedroom folding laundry and putting it away. Our bedrooms doors are about ten feet apart. Which is why I’m pretty comfortable when he’s alone in his bedroom.

But I’m constantly checking up on him. It’s one thing that my husband and I disagree with. He always tells me that I should be able to trust him and let him be but I just can’t.

When we’re downstairs and he’s upstairs, I’ll constantly come upstairs to check up on him. Sometimes I’ll ask my husband to check up on him. He’ll tell me that he’s fine but he still goes so that I can feel better.

This past Saturday the monkey was just not happy. He just woke up cranky. He didn’t want to wear the pants that I would give him or the shirt. He would ask for drinks but didn’t want the ones I would give him. It was just non-stop.

I finally told him that there were many pant choices hanging on his bedroom closet. I told him that he would need to pick the pants that he wanted as well as the shirt he wanted. I came back to my bedroom and kept folding clothes.

He was grunting and grunting and I would go back and check up on him. I would tell him that he needed to pick his own clothes. And he kept grunting and grunting.

After a while I just let him be. I figured he’d finally be able to self soothe and he’d figured it out. I kept hearing him grunt and grunt. After a few minutes, my heart makes it seem as it was an eternity, but it was 4 minutes or so that I decided to go back and talk to him.

But he was grunting for a different reason. His iPad had fallen on the back of his dresser and he was trying to reach it. But his arm got stuck. And he was grunting because he was hurting. And he couldn’t get his arm out.

This scene goes over and over in my mind. I just cannot understand how terrible he must have felt. Even if it was for a few minutes. He couldn’t just yell for me. He couldn’t just say that he needed help. That his arm was stuck and he was hurting. I’m glad that it wasn’t for a long time and that he was fine in the end.

During the day he would keep touching his arm and it was red. I was debating to take him in to get it checked but after a while it seemed he wasn’t hurt.

The rest of the weekend I just stayed with him. If he would be in his room I would just stay in his room. He lay on his bed and I would lay with him. It’s a small twin size bed but we’d make it work.

It was a combination of guilt and the what ifs. What if something more severe would have happened. And I also moved into the why nots. Why could he not yell for me. Why couldn’t he ask for help. It’s such a difficult concept to understand what he goes through. How frustrating he must feel.

When I came back to him and help him free his arm, I got his ipad from where it had fallen. I was tearing up and telling him how sorry I was. He kissed me and went back to playing. I immediately called my husband and cried. My husband said that my son holds no grudges. He forgives instantly unlike most of us.

Which is true.

I asked him to forgive me and in an instant he did. I try so hard to get him to communicate, to get him to be part of our world. But after this experience, I realized I need to be part of his too. I need to learn to forgive quickly without holding any grudges. And I think I need to start with myself.